Chapter 44: Sultry Paints

Note: Thanks to B0b and WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Sven Falk

“I can’t wait for you to fuck Cú Mheá while Nathalie or Zanyia rides my dick,” I whispered in my sister’s ear. “Or maybe Ava. I bet she would like to see that.”

My sister squirmed in my arm. “Your princess might want to join me.”

My dick throbbed against my sister. “Probably.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed away from me. The feyhound’s cum ran down her thighs. Why did the sight of pearly jizz staining my sister’s body always make my dick so hard? It didn’t even have to be mine. Just seeing her beautiful body stained with cum was intoxicating.

It soiled her and yet she still looked so proud. Unashamed. It was such an attractive quality.

“Master,” Nathalie said, tucking my cock back into my leather trousers. “You can’t go save all those people with your dick out.”

“Though the women we save would probably enjoy it,” giggled Zanyia.

“Oh, yes, they would,” Nathalie nodded, her braided pigtails swaying about her shoulders, her small tits jiggling.

The four feyhounds lounged around the clearing, looking so satiated while poor Cú Mheá whined and panted, licking at his poor, hard cock. If we didn’t have to stop Prince Meinard and save all those people enslaved by him, I’d let that feyhound rut to his heart content in Nathalie’s pussy.

While I enjoyed my sister.

But we had a mission. I let Nathalie lace me up as my sister pulled on her pink robe. She belted it, her body and face still flushed, a vital red adding such zest to her pale skin. She gave the big feyhound who fucked her a fond smile like she wanted to keep him then glanced at me.

“Well, brother mine? Done satisfying your perverse desires? Or do I need to rut with Cú Mheá for your pleasure.”

“After, sister dear,” I said, loving the twinkle in her blue eyes. “When we’re celebrating our victory.”

She laughed, the sound so rich and delightful.

Kora Falk

I could see the stocks through the trees situated on Réimse Seamair. It appeared to be a vast meadow. And there were so many stocks, each with a person in them. I shivered at that, shaking my head at the monstrosity of Prince Meinard’s actions.

If he had an army of thousands of animated statues, then there must be thousands of humans out there, all shackled to the lodestone. It was such a terrible thing. It felt worse than normal slavery. At least then they’d still had their minds free.

“You can do this,” Sven told me, stroking my arms through my pink robe.

I nodded my head. “This will be easy. It’s just an illusion. I don’t have feyhounds to distract.”

Just treemen. And they weren’t constructs but living creatures. Nor did they have the feyhounds keen senses. I could create the distraction that would keep them busy. The massive pine tree before me, reaching high up into the sky, was perfect.

My brother hugged me and kissed me on the mouth. I shuddered, clinging to him. His leather jerkin creaked against me. His hands squeezed my rear through my robe, pulling me so tight against him.

“I love you,” he said when he broke the kiss. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

“I’m not the one sneaking out through the stocks to the Lodestone,” I said. “I have the safer job.”

“Do you?”

I shivered. “Yes. I’ll be hidden with Nathalie. Stop worrying. You need to focus.”

He took a deep breath and let me go.

“Mistress,” Zanyia purred as she threw her arms around me. She rained hot kisses across my face. “Be safe.”

“You watch out for my brother.”

“I won’t let him be reckless,” she said.

“Let me?” Sven asked, his voice sounding amused. “You’re my slave, remember?”

“And a good slave knows when to ignore her master’s commands,” the lamia said, a toothy grin on her lips.

“Like when I tried to free you?” Sven asked. “Or when you made Nathalie my slave.”

“I made myself your slave, Master,” Nathalie said.

“And she’s a good slave,” Zanyia said. Then she darted to Sven’s side.